Untitled
by Sobeitsaidhe
Summary: Based from the original story, but with a different goal.
1. Chapter 1

Indeed, I have not died.

* * *

><p>His hands slid into the warm cavity of the cadaver and wrapped themselves around the stomach. Caressing it softly, he removed it and observed the way the lights of the morgue glanced off of the glistening organ. Yes, he thought, Atrenis would live again – or, rather have some semblance of life – for his own purposes of course. With this experiment, he would finally be victorious.<p>

-1-

"But wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me take you back to where it all began." Nathan Adler, from David Bowie's _Outside_ album

The tomb legions had not destroyed him. To his intense pleasure, that had all been a dream. His experiments were quite real, but he had not been rent to pieces. That damned officer, or whatever he had been, had been controlling_ his _ experiments. _His_ works, for which he had sacrificed his education at the university. So, as soon as Herbert had awoken, he threw all of his creatures into the furnace, including that damnable officer, taking no chances in ensuring their demise. He watched as they shrieked, and remained there until the only semblance of their existence were the light, lazy drifts of ash rising towards the ceiling. As a further precaution, he had gathered what remained of the ashes in the furnace and scattered them from his third story window.

Leaning back into his chair in the Layman's Apartments, Herbert West thought of what was to be his newest endeavor, one that would through all of his efforts be his greatest success. The creature, Atrenis, was believed by her cult to be the offspring of one of the Old Ones, and nearly as ancient. In his general perusal of the university's library, in the sections containing the oldest tomes, West had discovered books of mythos. In a particular book dating to the 1200's, he had first learned of Atrenis. Both the date of the book and the knowledge within had made him especially careful where he read it, and even more so when he surreptitiously removed it from the campus library.

From the tome, West learned that her cult was quite different from that of Dagon, one of the better known of the Old Ones, in the instance that her cult was more preoccupied with the idea of the land. To her followers, the earth and even the universe were supposedly projections of her mind, a dream of hers to put it simply. While most of the cults had a description of the thing that they worshiped, all that West could find was the mention of her gender. Apparently, her formed changed depending on the viewer, but the form was always female. Yes, he thought once more, this was going to be quite interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

In his endeavors to restore life to deceased human forms, West's attempts were …lacking in success, to say the least. At best, there were less than pleasant effects, murderous creatures being the least of them. West had learned the hard way that giving psuedo-life to anything larger than him was not a good idea.* Since the cult texts had mentioned later on within its pages that Atrenis was just the height of the average thirteenth century woman, Herbert assumed that he would have a better chance at controlling her should something undesirable occur. West decided that he would perform this experiment without help of any kind, based on his experiences with his last and only assistant. Perhaps the fools at Miskatonic would take him more seriously when they saw his serums perform successfully on a more adequate specimen. Assuming that he could even find a physical form of Atrenis, the form may not necessarily be quite as fresh as he needed it to be. However, Herbert was quite sure that he could come up with a mean to his ends.

West's fingers dug tightly into the stomach he held, his nails securing it, digging deep grooves into the cold form until it burst, spreading its contents onto Herbert and his work area. "Damn", he sighed, using his forearm to push his now bloodied hair away from his face, succeeding only in smearing the remains of the tissue across his glasses. "Now I have to go and find another specimen." A shame. That had been the best one yet.

Through perfectly logical assumptions, Herbert believed that by swapping out old organs with newer ones – from bodies donated to science, of course, by choice or no – with the exception of the brain, the form should retain a somewhat normal quality of "life" without severe repercussions. West had also learned that it was most unwise to reanimate corpses which were heavily damaged, whether through outward problems such as missing limbs or through internal damage. He lifted a scalpel from the worktable beside him and prodded the remains of the now-ruined stomach experimentally. He imagined that if he were somehow able to replace Atrenis' organs – if she had any – with those of a human he may be more receptive. Only a theory, but all theories must be tested before they are accepted as fact. Was he mad? Yes, quite mad. But from Herbert's point of view, nothing else mattered aside from one thing – success.

As with any venture, certain ... items ... would need to be procured. Therefore, West had taken in upon himself to venture to various cities and homesteads away from Arkham to gather his needed instruments without the bother of curious fools. He bought only a little of what he needed here and there to make sure that he did not to incite suspicion, and always payed in cash. On he had filled up his modest car with the necessary items from his last stop, he returned to his home in the Layman's Apartments. The apartments had been run down for quite some time, and various parts of the walls were coming apart on the outside. It may not survive an air strike, but at least it was sufficient for his purposes. Dark, gloomy, creepy enough to ward off any passerby, and with enough floors for him to shot any fool that would dare come near. A small family of cats had taken up residence in the first floor rooms - he found no need to be rid of them since they kept down the rat and mice population that would be disastrous to his work. Herbert and the cats viewed each other with the same air of indifference - you keep to your area, and I'll keep to mine. Occasionally, one of the kittens would stumble over to him when he arrived, and he often found himself stroking them in a seldom seen display of affection from the man.

After moving everything up to his room after several trips, Herbert decided that he was done for the day and retired to his bed. After all, Atrenis was eternal, and he had waited long enough to prove those Miskatonic fools wrong- a few days more would make no difference.

* * *

><p>*When I typed this, I immediately thought of a large elephant.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Herbert struggled madly against the restraints around him, the breath being slowly crushed out of him. The slimy thing hover about him laughed demonically, clenching tighter and tighter, threatening to crush what remained of his ribcage. Feeling utterly helpless for what may have been the very first time in his life, he let out a n uncharacteristic scream. Almost as soon as the sound escaped from his vocals, he found himself hitting the floor of his flat nearly hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

Staring wildly about the room, he realized that it had merely been a dream, despite the fact that it had seemed even more real each successive time he happened upon the illusion. Over the several months of his research into Atrenis, he'd had these types of dreams more and more frequently. Disturbing, to say the least, but Herbert West the man could be equally as terrible as any mythological creature in all his tenacity. It was nothing that he could not become accustomed to. A few dreams would not be enough to distract him from his goal.

Rubbing his eyes wearily, he reached out into the darkness of the room for his glasses. Rising slowly, West made his way to the lower rooms of his old apartments, to check on the progress, or rather, it's digression. West had learned from his past failures – there were no neighbors this time around, and no inquisitive minds anywhere near to see the strange lights or to hear the odd sounds creeping from beneath the grounds.

West had sealed of part of the basement in the manner of a cell, and had made the wise decision of using several heavy duty logging chains, coupled with nigh indestructible locks, to ensure that it stayed there. The only way it would escape would be through death, this time due to the collapse of the structure around it, as it was chained to the very foundations. Better to completely lose the building than to be once m ore questioned by the authority's feeble minds. Sputtering madly, the remains of the simple boy who had wandered onto his lands strained against its restraints, wanting nothing more or less than to rend West from skull to heel. It struggled to pull him through the bars and perpetuate that wish.

"Yet another miserable failure" West muttered coldly, glaring with malice at this thing he had made, yet refused to claim. The creature seemed to ponder its creator for a moment, temporarily ending it's sputtering in favor of its best imitation of West's stare. _An utter failure_. There was no doubt about one thing – his serum bestowed great, inhuman strength to the recently deceased. No matter. It would not be long until he discovered what form of chemical reaction or simple ingredient would produce the results he desperately sought.

Stretching calmly, he reached to his left for a rather long iron bar, and proceeded to shove it forcefully towards the creature, in between the bars of the make-shift cell. Thus subdued, the creature retreated to a corner, and West returned the bar to its proper place.

Returning to the thoughts of his dreams, they had really reached the point where he would simply have to that he was not unbreakable, despite his earlier thoughts on the matter. Rats in the walls or scorpions in his mind, or cranium, rather, being the least of his worries in such dreams. Now his mind changed courses to run towards the idea of Atrenis. Granted, he had no idea how things would turn out after he did bring Atrenis to life – foresight was not one of his strong points. However, in his naivety, he felt that he could control her without many problems.

Another thing that he had never worried on was socializing. People had never fit into his visions of grandeur, and now he realized that he longed for some sort of companionship, if for nothing more than to aid him in his research. His last attempt at having an assistant had proved to be less than satisfactory. Surely someone must exist in the universe who would aid him in his research. In the time until then, he would keep himself occupied with long, withdrawn soliloquies for thoughts as he made his way ever closer to his goal.

His research had lately brought him absolutely nowhere since his discovery of the tome, and his revelation had been quite disheartening. With nothing to continue working with, and only this miserable failure apparent to show some form of success. For the first time in his life, Herbert West was feeling utterly dejected, instead of filled with his usual rage at his circumstances. Raking his fingers through his blond hair, he stated, "We are both miserable failures, are we not?"


End file.
